Last Saturday, I had an educational musical experience. That was odd, especially after a week in which all things chartshaped and unit-shifting had made my soul sink. First, I'd been to the launch of the Brit awards, otherwise known as the annual celebration of UK record sales. I had boggled at the inexplicable popularity of Scouting for Girls' She's So Lovely, and wondered why people bought albums by Beth Rowley. Then, I had watched, brow furrowed, as the Poundstretcher Joy Division, known to the world as White Lies, made their miserable way to the top of the album charts.

It was particularly strange, then, that my epiphanies arrived in an embarrassing place: a New Kids On the Block concert. I know how awful that sounds. But given that I no longer remember Donnie Wahlberg's birthday, I offer you the following thoughts without any baggage.

Here's what I learned. First, the greatest pop experiences are all about the cultivation of memory. The venue was groaning with female fans who were now all grown up. By joining together, we were remembering that strange time in our lives when we started to experience sexual desire, helped along by five boys from Boston. It still doesn't matter that the band had been manufactured, nor that they were selling us a fantasy world that bore little relation to our lives. Instead, being there was like being part of a feminist rally. We were all remembering the power of our sexuality, how much it could burn, and how strong its roots were.

Second, I realised the power of an energetic stage show. When the band played Tonight from 1990's Step By Step, an artful hymn to the Beatles that has always been rather embarrassing, they ran down the side of the venue like the Fab Four running from their fans in A Hard Day's Night. Then they mounted a tiny stage that moved up and down, and larked about on the top of a piano. It was brilliant, and after the tedium of the Brit awards, it made me think all pop performances should be like that.

Finally, I realised how subtly the New Kids' songs dealt with sex. That shouldn't have been surprising, though my misty memories told me that they had been quite saucy. In reality, I realised, their sauciness amounted to lyrics about them "hangin' tough" and the five of them grabbing their crotches suggestively. In a flash, I suddenly understood why boy bands like these have died, especially in terms of their popularity among younger women. Their innocent songs don't work in a world in which sexual expression has changed. Sex has become much more visible in society and pop culture in the last two decades; mainstream pop women have even started singing candidly about sex themselves. In many ways that is marvellous, but when sex is valued above fun, it can make the music that tries to place sexuality up front sound as though it's trying awfully hard.

Don't get me wrong . It's liberating and entertaining to hear naughty pop, and I don't want girls to think that they should only be thinking about love and not lust. But I feel regret, too. I feel sad for all those young girls who don't have boy bands to cling to when their desires are growing. I also worry about something far worse. Imagine this fresh hell: that the lack of a young New Kids On the Block in 2009 will push young women away from scouting for boys, and push them towards Scouting for Girls.